Veiled Deception
by Katie Clark
Summary: Mystery, murder and madness are part and parcel for for an ex cop PI, but what about a graphic novel artist? Vicki and Henry's worlds collide as the country's largest comic convention comes to town, leaving more blood then a Frank Miller book in it's wake
1. Shadows and Blood

I do not own Blood Ties or the Blood Books which it is based after. That is the pure genius of the author Tanya Huff and her property alone. So, please don't sue me. I am a poor student and could not give you much. . . Unless you want a nice pair of socks.

Also, I know that the National Expo takes place in late august, but I changed the timing to fit the time line for my stories. Sorry if that bothers anyone.

As well, I am VERY sorry for changing the beginning. I have been re-reading it while working on more chapters and have been trying to figure out what was wrong. The whole thing just didn't seem right to me. I finally put my finger on it so that is why I re-wrote it. Things will make sense soon, so PLEASE be patient.

/REVIEW PLEASE\

Yaoi is a Japanese term for two guys in a sexual relationship.

----------------------------------------

Heavy clouds drifted slowly across the darkness of the night sky, passing before the full moon and scattering its light into shadows that danced across the city streets. The only steady illumination came from the stagnant amber light of the street lamps, which stood as sentinels along the sidewalks. A cool breeze tossed dead leaves and debris in its wake, leaving a crunching and decaying carpet beneath the feet of those still around to walk on it. And on this night, there seemed to be quite a few.

Alongside the standard late night shopper bundled up against the brisk fall air, hurrying from store to store, was a rowdy mass, nearly all in some sort of costume. To those unaccustomed to the sight, one might have thought that Toronto had been taken over by the cast of the next Hollywood comic hit, but the truth was much less dramatic. The National Expo was yearly here, the biggest comic convention in the country. Most people did not even give it a second thought anymore.

A small café close to the convention center was relatively quiet, considering how close it was to the 'action'. Suddenly a shrill scream broke the silence, dwindling into dull laughter. Three girls sat at a table near the window, huddled so close they could have touched elbows, giggling amongst themselves. The uproar only caught the attention of the other patrons for a moment before it shifted back to their own conversation, computer or hot cup of coffee.

None of the girls could have been older then twenty but it was obvious that, they too, were there for the convention. The tallest of the three sat alone on one side of the table, huddled over a sketch book with a pen tightly grasped in her hand. It quickly and gently slid over the paper, tracing deep black lines into its pristine whiteness. Waves of black hair draped over the pale skin of her face. The length was tucked into two rather messy braids, falling down her back to just past her shoulders. Her lithe figure was covered in simple black jeans, a purple t-shirt and black hoody, which were all a bit too large for her. Her legs were crossed on the seat, leaving a faded pair of army boots ready to fall off her feet. She would have looked like a scare crow were it not for the constant movement of her right hand.

The other two seemed to be more in the spirit of the convention, sitting on the opposite seat and both clutching steaming cups. The shortest sat right by the window, in a pink bob wig and a maids outfit complete with apron and shiny mary-janes. She had her hands clasped over her mouth, having just drawn a bit more attention then she would have liked. Her peachy skin was blushed to nearly match her wig.

The third choked on her drink, trying to keep from laughing. "Holy crap, you're loud" she whispered, looking around to see if anyone was still staring. She shone her favourite hero to the world in a silver silkscreen on her T-shirt, but seemed to be staying simple with khakis and grey runners. Absent-mindedly, she brushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her face, trying to tuck it into the elastic at the back of her head. Her long leather jacket rustled as she shifted in place.

"I c-can't help it!" the maid said between dwindling giggles.

"You _seriously_ need a hobby, Abby."Abby shrugged.

"All I said was that Batman would do Superman..."

"She said a _hobby_. I don't think that making random beyond reason yaoi pairings counts as a hobby" the tallest remarked, without even looking up from her drawing.

Abby glared at her, "Hey! At least I'm not obsessed with some comic artist..." The tallest's eyes flickered from her drawing to Abby for only a moment, but the irritation the glance carried was obvious.

"I'm not the one stalking him" she replied.

"Hey!" the maid whined, rather hurt. "It's not stalking if..."

"If you don't steal his hair?" Abby added with a short laugh. The maid pouted.

"I would never take his hair! Just..." she reached into a small pocket on the front of her apron "His pen." The other two burst out laughing. The maid blushed furiously once again, but could not keep the smile off of her face. "Hello. My name is Marie Weir and I am a Henry Fitzroy-aholic" she giggled.

The tallest fell silent again quickly, closing her book and slipping it into a black cloth backpack, which lay on the seat beside her.

"Hey, aren't you going to show us what you've been drawing all night, Elizabeth?" Marie asked when she noticed this. Elizabeth stared at her sadly, pausing for a moment, but then zipped her bag shut.

"Don't... Please don't call me Elizabeth, okay?" she whispered, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She began playing absently with the straw in the full glass of soda in front of her, that had been sitting neglected since she ordered it. The smile, which had been nearly constant on Marie's face all night, disappeared and was replaced with a look of concern.

"I-I'm sorry... I" she stuttered, unsure of what she did. Abby looked nervously between the two. The reaction caught Elizabeth off guard.

"Oh, um. It's okay" she said, relaxing a bit and looking Marie in the eye. Elizabeth forced a small smile, and the brightness in her friend's face returned. "I can't stand that name" she laughed. "Sounds like some old queen, eh? Besides, only my mother calls me that. Just call me Beth or Liz or anything but that, okay?" Marie laughed in turn and, after an apprehensive gaze at her friend, Abby did as well. Marie took a short sip of her drink, then sat back and crossed her arms, looking Beth up and down. She had begun to play with her straw again, staring out the window blankly. When she noticed she was being watched, she shifted her eyes to Marie. "What?" she asked quietly. Marie tried to look as serious as possible.

"You don't really look like a _queen_." Abby had to cover her mouth to keep from spraying both Beth and the wall opposite with tea. Beth laughed gently.

"I didn't mean that kind of queen..."

A waitress came up to the table and waited for the three to calm down a bit. She smiled a plastic smile, her greying hair tucked into a messy bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were small and dark, circled by deep wrinkles. A pair of old, dark framed glasses hung off the bridge of her nose.

"Are you girls going to order something else, or stick with what 'ya got?" she asked, her voice a smoker's croak.

"No, um... I think were okay" Beth said, being the first to overcome the giggles. The woman appeared to sneer at them and sniffed the air loudly before turning around.

"What crawled up her ass?" Abby whispered, glaring at the waitress' back as she walked away.

"Probably has extra hours or something" Beth said, shrugging.

"I bet places like this do amazing business around this time of year" Abby commented.

"You'd think she'd be happy then!" Marie said with a dry laugh. Beth exhaled quietly, ignoring the comment.

Abby reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell, flipping it open.

"Oh, wow. Check out the time" she said, showing the screen to the others. The clock ticked from eleven fifteen to eleven sixteen as she flipped it shut, sticking it back in her pocket.

"Eeek. My dog is definitely going to need out by now" Beth sighed, swearing under her breath.

"You brought your. . . ?" Marie began but was interrupted by Abby.

"Long story." Marie laughed.

"We're heading the same way, right?" she asked, gathering her skirt as she got up. Beth had uncrossed her legs and gotten to her feet rather quickly, but grabbed her backpack and swung the straps over her shoulders with deliberate leisure as her friends rose. Abby flattened her jacket behind her and pulled the collar up a bit, letting her hair fall over her back.

"Yeah, um. For a few blocks I think. Want to share a cab or something?" Abby asked, smoothing out her collar now, and flaring the jacket's hem.

"N'ah, it's not that far" Marie smiled, waving the idea away. "Let's just hoof it."

"Well then, 'high thee hence'" Abby called, pointing out the door. Their laughter could be heard echoing, even as they turned the corner.

"Chinese or pizza?" Abby asked out of the blue, a few blocks away. They had mostly been walking in silence, moving through the few people still out at a quick pace. The had only stopped once when a few young men pushed past, nearly shoving them into the wall, singing 'I Like to Move It' drunkenly at the top of their lungs.

"So?" Abby ventured again, having not received an answer the first time.

"Huh?" Beth asked. She was hanging a bit behind the other two, her eyes shifting up and down the street.

"Dinner? What do you want for dinner? Chinese or pizza?" Marie giggled. "What world was your head in?" she asked, nudging Beth gently. A small smile graced her face, but only for a moment.

"Oh, um... Chinese?"

"Chinese again?!" Abby sighed.

"You asked. If you didn't want to know, then you shouldn't have asked" Beth said evenly. Abby shrugged.

"I guess... It's just-"

"Do you _really_ want to be eating from that pizza place? Remember the hair the other year?" Beth offered.

Abby shuddered, thinking back to one of the first years they had come to the convention. It was a tradition for her and Beth since they were in elementary school. So was exploring the local food of Toronto. The last time they had ordered from a pizza place had been a nightmare. The hair in the poutine, long and greasy. NEVER again. Although, it had been a bit easier that year. First day in TO they had met Marie, a home-grown comic fan. She knew where all of the best food was.

"Chinese sounds really good" Abby said with a slight sneer at the memory of culinary catastrophes past. Marie giggled gently.

"So, are you coming for Chinese?" Abby asked, trying to shove the memory out of her head. Marie rummaged through her purse.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. I just need to let my boyfriend . . . Shit!" She had suddenly stopped in mid-stride, to Beth's great surprise as she nearly walked right into the back of her.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked quietly, her eyes darting up and down the sidewalk. It was still busy, mostly with other conventioneers. At the next corner a young man bedecked in red and blue tights and a cape clumsily played the guitar to no avail for passers-by. On the other side of the street two young men stumbled out of a bar, clinging to each other for balance. Nothing seemed out of the normal . . . For Toronto, that is.

"I forgot my camera at the café! That thing cost me two pay checks. I _need_ to go get it!" Marie was frantic, digging through the few pockets of her maids costume in hopes of discovering it. Abby rolled her eyes.

"Like it's still going to be there" she sighed. Marie pouted.

"I need to go check." She turned around to rush back down the street.

"Do you want us to come with you?" called Abby politely.

"No, it's okay. It's late. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Okay, fine. See you tomorrow" she replied, waving.

"Yeah, bye!" called Beth, but Marie had already disappeared around the corner.

"Do you think that rats can eat fried rice?" Beth asked, continuing at her previous pace down the street. Abby shrugged.

"Like I'm cleaning up after the- hey wait!" Abby had stopped. "Elizabeth!" she called, as her friend had continued to walk.

"Don't call me that!" she reeled around, staring Abby right in the eye.

"Sorry. . . Beth, whatever! Isn't that Marie's camera?" Abby asked, pointing at the cloth strap hanging over Beth's shoulder.

"No, uh . . . It's just my bag" she replied, tugging at the strap to pull the black canvas backpack over to her front. "Oh, dammit . . . " she sighed. Entwined with the strap was the strap from an expensive-looking camera.

"I guess that we'll have to keep it tonight and give it back tomorrow" Abby sighed in turn.

"No, she can't have gone very far. I'll just get it to her now" said Beth, shrugging the camera strap off and tucking it into her bag. "Besides, she'll go crazy if she doesn't find it at the café tonight then finds out we had it tomorrow." Abby laughed gently.

"Whatever. You try to catch up to her, then. _I'm_ going back to the apartment." Abby turned and continued up the street. "_Some_ people actually _like_ to eat."

'Down the street, around the corner, past the grocer. Where was that café anyway? Oh, damn. It's closed. She must have headed back to her hotel. Wait . . . ' Quick movement. A scream echoes from a nearby alley. A dark figure clutching a limp body . . . Blood dripping from her body like crimson rain . . . Eyes fading into death . . . Sharp teeth contort the face, then darkness. Just darkness . . .


	2. Day Break

'Engh, engh, engh!' Vicki buried her face deeper in her arms. Why did alarms have to be so . . . Loud? As the minute ticked by, the alarm thankfully stopped. The sun was shining brightly through the closed blinds, beaconing the world to rise for the new day. 'Why couldn't it just be night again? I was having such a good . . .' 'Engh, engh, engh!' "Alright, already! I'm up. I'm up!" she moaned, reaching blindly to turn the alarm clock beside her bed off. 'Crack!'

"Dammit . . ." she groaned, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. A glass lay in pieces on the floor by her upturned clock. Slowly, she picked up and slipped her glasses over her nose. "This is not going to be a good day . . ."

"I knew that I shouldn't have let him come. He is just too young for this sort of thing! Too vulnerable. What if something bad happened to him?" the woman cried, her voice shaky. Her grey hair hung in disheveled curls around her wrinkled face. Her blue eyes were panicked, darting from Vicki to the door and back. Did she hope to see the 'him' she spoke of just walk in?

"How old did you say your son was, Mrs. Harris?"

"He's 35" the woman choked out between sobs. Vicki sighed heavily.

"And he came here for the convention, you said?"

"Yes! With his hooligan friends. I knew they were a bad influence. He was such a good boy before he met _those_ people." Vicki bit her tongue, suppressing the urge to yell at the woman. 'Calm . . . Just stay calm . . . ' she thought to herself.

It had been the same thing all week. And it was all because of that stupid convention. It seemed to attract all of the crazies. Her last case had been promising. A stolen diamond necklace. What no one had told her was that the necklace was a prop and that the thief had stolen it as a part of a skit. How stupid could people get? And then the half-dozen people dressed as super-what's-it looking for the seventh person dressed in the same costume. Like there weren't a hundred other people wearing the exact same thing! It was like looking for that man in the little red toque. What was his name?

"Are you even listening to me?" the old woman cried, clutching a tattered handkerchief to her nose with a shaking hand.

"Oh- yes, uh. You were saying?" Vicki feigned interest. 'Remember the money' she thought, clenching her teeth and forcing a fake smile. She hoped it looked compassionate and not constipated.

"He said that he was coming for the convention! But then I found out that he had taken all of his things. He even took the cat!" Vicki choked, trying to keep composed. 'Remember the money!' she thought.

"Have you considered that he might have. . . Moved out? And maybe he was just using the convention as a cover?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice even. The woman turned bright pink in the face as her eyes narrowed at Vicki. If looks could kill . . .

"He DID NOT run away!" the woman yelled, her anger palpable. She got to her feet in a huff, her teeth clenched.

"Good day!" the woman said, gathering her jacket and bag and heading toward the door.

"Oh, no. Wait! Mrs. Harris!" Vicki called, rising out of her chair to follow. But the woman had already slammed the door behind her. She sighed deeply and sat back down, burying her face in her hands on her desk. "Good riddance" she whispered under her breath.

Vicki looked up as Coreen hurried in through the door shortly after, bedecked in a black Victorian top and corset and a leather mini skirt with striped stockings and violet boots. Always the picture of gothic chic, but thankfully also with the gift of coffee. She looked from the door which she had just closed to Vicki.

"Wasn't that. . . ?"

"Yup" Vicki said, crossing her arms and leaning back into her chair.

"But wasn't she . . .?"

"Nope" Vicki replied, putting her legs up on the desk.

"What about her son?" Coreen asked, obvious concern in her voice.

"35 and with definite 'mommy issues'. Please say one of those is for me." Coreen looked down at the coffee in her hands, having momentarily forgotten that she even had it.

"Oh, uh. Yes, here" she said, a bit flustered.

Vicki took the cup gratefully and immediately took a long drink. Coreen watched her, unsure if she should say anything. When Vicki finally put the cup down, she looked far more relaxed. Coreen had begun to pull papers out of her bag.

"Let me guess? More missing costume jewelry? Or has super-dude lost his cape?" Vicki asked sarcastically. Coreen smiled warily and handed Vicki a folder.

"It's a missing person. She came in last night. Said that she could not come again until tonight, but she gave me some information." Vicki flipped through the papers. A few photos of some teen girls at a party with a red circle around one in particular. Long, dark brown hair tied into an elastic at the back of her head. A few drawings of the same person and one or two of some guy. And a name; Abigail Callow. Coreen pointed at one of the pictures, to a tall girl with black hair."She's the one who wants to hire you." Coreen explained. Vicki sighed and shuffled the papers back together.

"Please, don't tell me. . . More people from the convention? I can't be doing this! Besides, she looks like she's what, 18? She can't be older then you. . ." Coreen reached back into her bag.

"Yes, but she can afford this..." She pulled out an envelope and turned it over onto the desk in front of Vicki. A couple of hundred dollars in various bills fell out. Vicki put her feet on the floor and leaned forward, her eyes wide.

"What time did she say she was coming?"


	3. Missing

The sun set slowly over the city scape, casting its dwindling rays of red light over the sidewalks and towering buildings. The air was cool already from the fall, with a sharp breeze scattering dead leaves. The streets were nearly deserted, but only anywhere away from the down town core. Vicki thanked whatever was out there that the 'fan-people' seemed to prefer to stick near their _own kind_.

The clock ticked steadily on the wall, counting the hours. Finally the sun dipped deep behind the buildings, allowing the streets to fill with the shadowed darkness of night. 'Tick-tick-tick', it must have been nearly nine. Coreen walked into Vicki's office, trying to pull her coat around to cover the short, black velvet and taffeta dress that she had changed into. But her hair gave her away, pulled into tight braids woven with violent and red streaks which screamed 'night club'.

"I-um. . . I was wondering if, maybe, I could. . . Take off early?" she smiled eagerly. Vicki sat back in her chair, her eyes shifting blankly behind her glasses from Coreen to the clock, to her desk, wishing that she had more then coffee and Chinese in her system.

Her eyes fell onto the folder on her desk, which she thumbed absently with her right hand. She had been looking at the pictures off and on all afternoon, trying to find some sort of hint as to who they were or what might be going on. Most of them were of the same three girls, some photos and a few dark ink or pencil drawings. These reminded her of Henry, when he sketched her. . . But then there was the one. The man in uniform. He seemed, sort of... Familiar. But she just couldn't seem to place him. They all seemed _fairly_ normal looking. Her eyes returned to Coreen for a moment, who was now shifting nervously from one foot to the other, waiting for a reply. Her smile twitched somewhat as her heavily-lined eyes grew more imploring. Definitely the type of people that Coreen would have gotten along with, she mused as she began to tap the folder. Vicki smiled at her own thoughts.

"Um, Vicki?" Coreen asked, moving a bit closer to her desk. She looked up towards Coreen, snapping back to reality.

"What time did you say this girl would be here?" Vicki asked, but something caught her eye.

"S-sorry . . ." said a small voice from behind Coreen, causing her to jump in surprise.

"I-uh, didn't mean to be so late." It was the tallest from the pictures, waves of black hair tied into messy braids on either side of her head and nearly drowning in a black hoody and violet pants. She looked rather nervous, especially at having surprised Coreen. Vicki got to her feet and walked over to her. She reached her hand out in greeting, but the girl backed away slightly. Vicki gave her hand a quick look then switched her gaze to the girl with a twinge of curiosity before crossing her arms in front of her. "M-my name is E- Elizabeth Ka-Kavanaugh. I came here the other night about finding my f-friend."

Coreen, still suffering from the surprise of Elizabeths's sudden appearance, tried to regain her composure.

"Y-yes, hello! You spoke with me a little last night. My name is Coreen Fennel and this is, um . . ." Coreen looked from Elizabeth to Vicki, seeming almost as nervous as the girl was. Coreen leaned against the wall near the door, biting her lip and tugging on her jacket in silence.

"Nelson, Vicki Nelson" Vicki feigned a warm smile and leaned forward to extend her hand once again. This time Elizabeth took it in hers, briefly. Her hands were like sticks hanging out of the cuffs of a scarecrow.

Vicki moved around her desk to retake her position in her chair. She motioned for Elizabeth to take the chair opposite. The girl's eyes darted from Coreen to Vicki, then to the chair before she finally sat down. Coreen stood, watching the two blankly from the doorway, having seemingly forgotten of her wish to leave early.

"So. . ." Vicki began, breaking the awkward silence. "You're here about your friend?"

"Yes-um. Abigail- Abby . . . Abby Collow. She- um. . . We've been friends since elementary school." Elizabeth began. Vicki scribbled the name on a piece of paper in front of her and absent-mindedly pushed her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose.

Her eyes passed over the girl, trying to gauge her. She was young, probably younger then Coreen. And scared. But what could have scared her so much? She tried to catch her eyes, but they darted away toward the window. Were they different colours? Blue or green, and absolutely terrified.

"So, how long has she been missing?" Vicki asked, moving right to business.

"T-two days" Elizabeth stammered, tugging anxiously on the strap of her bag. Vicki's expression grew very serious and she leaned towards the girl. "You don't think you should go to the-?"

"No! No police. . ." the girl shouted, causing Coreen to jump. Vicki sat back in her chair and tented her fingers on the desk in front of her, surveying the girl with wide eyes. She had closed her mouth quickly after her exclamation and appeared to be anxiously biting her lower lip. "It's- it's just..." the girl began again, her voice now quiet and wavering.

"I- please... Let me explain. I haven't gone to the police, but please let me explain. . ." she said in a rush, appearing rather flustered. Taking a small breath, she tried to begin again. "Abby. . . She- she's my b-best friend. Like my sister. We- we used to come to the convention every year. . . E- except last. We- We, uh, th-thought that this year would kinda bring things back to normal."

"And why haven't you gone to the police? They're cheaper then a private detective and tend to deal with missing 'friends' all the time" Vicki pressed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Although, you don't see me complaining" she added with a smile, shrugging. She tried to catch the girls eyes again. She always had a knack of telling when people were lying by their eyes. Must be that whole 'Window to the soul' thing.

Elizabeth tensed up, her eyes darting more wildly now. "Because-um . . . Because, it- they. . .Were, um, the ones who took her. . ." Vicki's eyes grew wide and she leaned back in her chair.

"The police?" she questioned, incredulous. Elizabeth merely nodded.

"Did she do anything?" she asked, still in disbelief. Evil spirits and zombies she got, but cops snatching teens off the street? That just wasn't how they worked. Or, at least, not when she had been around.

"No! Neither of us has ever done anything!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"And you're sure it was a police officer?"

"Y-yes" she said quietly. "B-but, it was, strange . . ."

"How so?" Coreen asked, suddenly returning to herself. Both Elizabeth and Vicki's eyes flew to her. Coreen blushed slightly, but continued, her curiosity piquing. "Why was it strange?" she asked. Elizabeth grew more tense, her voice now coming in little more then a whisper.

"He- his back. Was covered in. . . In blood. But, it didn't seem like. . . Real blood. And when I got near them, they- they just. . . disappeared. The cop and Abby. He _took_ her. . ." Coreen's mouth hung slightly open as she looked from the girl to Vicki, unsure what to think. Vicki exhaled slowly.

"Well, um my fee is-" Vicki began.

"$500 a day. Plus expenses. . . " Elizabeth finished quietly. "She, um. . . Coreen?" her eyes flickered towards Coreen just long enough to get a nod of confirmation, before shifting back to the floor. "Coreen told me last night. I gave her enough for the week. . . And, if- If you need more. . ." She pulled her bag off of her shoulder and unzipped it, taking out a black sketch book and a pen. In a few swift movements she wrote something in the dark ink and tore the page out, handing it to Vicki. Vicki glanced at it. It looked like a cell number and an address.

Vicki nodded and folded the paper, tucking it into her own notes. "We're going to find your friend, don't worry. Vicki is the best at this sort of thing. . ." Coreen said, her hands hovering over the girls shoulders, wanting to comfort her but not wanting to frighten her. The later appeared to be most likely. Crossing her arms once again, Vicki leaned back in her chair. At least it wasn't costume jewelry this time.


	4. Deeper and Deeper

' A - b - i - g . . .' Vicki's fingers danced stiffly to each letter of the missing girl's name, then gave a swift tap to the enter key. Comic books, a Korean blog, some sort of pastry company from out east and quite a few links for someone named Amanda... Again. Her hand moved slowly to her mouth to stifle a yawn. She couldn't figure out why she was so tired, it wasn't like she had been up very late. After her new client had gone Coreen had not stayed for much longer. Just long enough to let her mind bubble over into suspicions of Satanism and something about phantoms, she had not payed much attention. After some of the other cases which had come to her, a good, old-fashioned missing person seemed like a blessing. And, without anything to support her client's claims, that was all that it was. Or so Vicki continued to tell herself.

'A cop. . . A cop couldn't be involved in this. . .' Vicki's mind swam for a moment. She just couldn't picture anyone, or anything, using the shield as a way to hurt people. But she knew. . . She knew that it had happened before. 'Not this time. . . Just, not. . .' She pressed her eyes shut and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. Opening them, another yawn escaped.

The sun shone brightly between the cracks in the blinds. Vicki looked towards the clock ticking away on the wall. It was already a quarter to eleven in the morning, but it still seemed early. She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes roughly with her thumb and forefinger before replacing them. 'Maybe spelled differently?' she thought. Her fingers resumed their steady refrain on the keyboard. . . Nothing. Leaning back in her chair she stretched her arms out in front of her and, closing her eyes, inhaled deeply.

'Click, click, click.' Vicki looked up to see Coreen walk in through the doorway. She was bedecked in red vinyl, black lace and leather boots, all of which made Vicki thankful for her grey cotton sweater and jeans, her heels echoing against the floor. But it was not Coreen's clothes which caught her attention. It was the coffee in her hands. Ah, the caffeine fairy bearing precious gifts. And...

"I got those photocopies that you wanted" Coreen said, placing the yellow envelope with the original pictures as well as a grey file folder containing the copies and a cup of coffee on the desk in front of Vicki.

"Hmm?" Vicki murmured, quickly grasping the cup in both hands and lifting it to her lips for a sip. 'Ah, too hot.' She replaced the cup on her desk.

"The pictures?" Coreen pressed Vicki's memory. "For the new client. . . Elizabeth?"

"Hm- Oh, yes" Vicki said absently, turning the file towards her on the desk but letting her eyes shift blankly back toward the laptop monitor. Coreen turned to walk away.

"I'm more then just a coffee wench. . ." she whispered under her breath. Vicki's face remained still in front of the monitor, but her eyes turned sideways to look at Coreen.

"You say something?" she asked. Coreen's eyes went wide as a deer caught in the headlights under the casual glance. Her own eyes darted anxiously from Vicki, to the desk then towards an empty spot on the wall.

"N-nothing" Coreen replied quickly, her eyes settling on Vicki and her whole frame going rigid. She managed a weak smile.

"Uh huh. . ." Vicki said, her brow inclined with a slightly doubtful expression. Coreen relaxed and turned to leave the room once again.

"Thanks for the coffee, by the way" Vicki said. Coreen turned around to see Vicki facing her, her cup raised in a mock toast. Vicki took a quick sip and put the cup back on the desk before she turned back to the computer once more, a smile touching the corners of her mouth.

Coreen turned and hurriedly walked back towards the desk, her heels clicking loudly with every step. "I- What I meant was. . ." she stumbled over her rushed attempt at an explanation. Vicki faced Coreen, her face placid.

"Coreen, have you _never_ heard the phrase 'don't sweat the small stuff'?" Coreen laughed, her anxiety lingering. "Now, did you happen to find anything on any of these people?" Vicki asked, crossing her arms in front of her. Coreen stood silently for a moment before she could collect herself.

"Oh, yes!" she said, her familiar cheerfulness returning with a vengeance. She reached for the folder that she had placed on Vicki's desk and took out a few of the pictures. She spread them across the desk to face Vicki. "I wasn't able to find anything on this guy" Coreen began, pointing at an ink sketch of a rather gruff looking man in an obvious police uniform. "Anyways, I thought the whole cop-thing might be more your and Mike's field." Vicki glared at Coreen and she took up a slightly defensive stance. "Besides. It's not really easy to find someone with just a picture."

"Good thing we aren't looking for him, then" Vicki retorted. Coreen took a sharp breath.

"I couldn't find anything on this girl either. . . Abigail?" Coreen pointed to one of the pictures of the three girls standing together, the missing girl in the middle, the client on her right and another girl on her left. Each beamed a frozen smile from the picture, trapped forever in a paper print of a party long ended.

"Of course not. . ." Vicki said, throwing up her hands in frustration. She turned back toward the laptop. That was when it hit her. She quickly typed out a name.

"But-" Coreen continued. Vicki's eyes returned to Coreen, to cautious to be optimistic.

"But?" she questioned.

"When I first saw this picture, I could have sworn that I recognized this girl" Coreen said, pointing toward the person on the left of Abigail. She looked about seventeen or eighteen with peachy skin, shoulder length sandy hair and brown eyes. "I just couldn't remember from where." Vicki knew exactly how she felt. "But when I saw the newspaper this morning, it just hit me." Vicki looked at Coreen, more then slightly confused. Was this revelation supposed to stir some sort of understanding? Coreen knew that it hadn't clicked and began to rustle through the papers on the desk. After a moment she retrieved a rather dejected looking newspaper and unfolded it over everything else on the desk to showcase the cover page. 'Fourth Victim Found; Suspected Link to Serial Killings' read the headline. Right below was what looked like an old school photo of the latest victim from before she breathed her last. The name read 'Marie Weir'. Vicki picked up the paper and looked from the school photo to the girl in the picture on her desk.

"Huh" she remarked simply.

"So. . . What have you found?" Coreen asked with a small smile, pushing the paper slightly aside to see Vicki eye-to-eye. Vicki folded the paper and put it in front of her on the desk.

"So far. . ." Vicki began. Coreen looked at her with great anticipation. "Nothing." Vicki finished with a sigh. Coreen's face fell slightly. "Unless you want a deal on danishes from Nova Scotia." Coreen smiled weakly.

"No leads. . ." Coreen said flatly. Vicki leaned back in her chair, her eyes wandering slightly. But her attention was quickly drawn, once again, to the monitor.

"Except. . ." Vicki said. Her search on a hunch had kicked back several hitherto neglected results.

"Except?" Coreen pressed, curious. Vicki turned the laptop to face Coreen. She had nearly given up on finding anything on the missing girl, so she had tried a new angle. She had searched her clients name, Elizabeth Kavanaugh, the girls supposed 'best friend'. But instead of a lead she had found. . . "Another article?" Coreen questioned. Vicki turned the laptop back towards her and opened one of the links.

"It's from Ottawa" she said. "'The search for eighteen year old Elizabeth 'Beth' Kavanaugh, a senior from Saint Paul's Catholic High School who was last seen near her family's Pinecrest apartment building, was called off today after the body was discovered in the Ottawa River. Nearly one month ago, after what was described by the girl's mother as a '- minor disagreement' and by the neighbors as a 'shouting match. . .' Hmm. . . 'brother wanted for questioning. . .' Huh" Vicki rose and walked to the door, grabbing her jacket off of a hook and shrugging it on. Coreen leaned over the desk to look at the screen. There she was, the same girl from the night before, peachy pale with the same messy braids, swaddled in a violet sweater, smiling in the sunlight of what looked like an old vacation picture. Below where Vicki had cut off reading, the name 'Malcolm Kavanaugh' stood out as another link.

"Wait, it really is. . . ?" Coreen began.

"Uh hm" Vicki murmured in concurrence.

"Wh- where are you going?" Coreen asked, hurriedly moving around the desk toward Vicki.

"Where _normal_ people go when people go missing" she answered, mocking her own sincere tone which she has used on Elizabeth the night before. "Take my mes-?" Vicki began, opening the door, before. . .

"- Got it" Coreen answered, taking up Vicki's position in front of the laptop behind the desk. Vicki merely nodded before she let the door close behind her. And Coreen sat back in the chair, staring at the screen, as Elizabeth stared unseeingly back at her.


	5. Awake

This chapter may be slightly confusing, but don't worry. It is supposed to be. And I AM going to finish this story and Henry DOES come in VERY soon. But, anyways. . . Enjoy!

Darkness. . . Fluttered lashes. Faded lights hover in a fractured memory of open eyes. Whispered half-words rise to shuddering screams lost in unconsciousness. And pain. . . The pain. 'Ah, my head is killing me' Abby thought, reflexively trying to move her hand to her temple. Bound. . . Without movement. 'Why can't I move?!' she thought desperately, her memories swirling just beyond true recollection, trapped in a frenzied grey mass intertwined with the pain. Night. . . The sky was dark above. She watched as it twisted, the image swirling from the sky above to a dizzied ceiling then back to an empty darkness. 'What the hell happened?' she pressed her disjointed memories.

People. . . So many people. 'The convention!' Beth, and. . . A name. Something? But, the convention. . . 'I hate those comics. Why did I even let her convince me to go see. . .' her thoughts formed slowly as she tried to piece things together, through the pain and darkness of her mind. Not that. Not comics. Something. . . 'The convention. They were at the convention because of. . .' She had been there since September. 'Toronto, not the convention' she tried to clear her thoughts. School. . . She had been there for school. 'Criminal psychology.' A silent laugh echoed through her mind against the pain. Toronto. . . No, Ottawa! In Ottawa she found. . . Or was it the other way around? 'Who found whom?' The nightmares. . . And the nightmares. The blood and the rotting faces. . . The darkness and the screams. 'Fucking dead people. . . Always have to be so fucking cryptic.' Her mind swam. But, what was it. . .? Beth? 'Beth!' They were at the convention because of Beth. They were there. . . Long, minutes? So long for a name. . . On paper? A signature. . .? An autograph! 'We were waiting in line for over an hour to get some comic- "Graphic novel. . ."' Beth's voice echoed from a half-remembered conversation. '-Graphic novel artist. . . Some- guy. . .' Name. . .? Like the park. The place. . . The camping place with, the water? The harbor. . . Fitzroy! 'What an ass-hat! We were in line for over an hour and he goes and leaves before we even get to the front. But. . .' Someone. 'I thought Marie was going to cry, but she was sneaky. She had already gotten her book signed. And she stole. . .' Something. . . And Beth. 'Why wasn't Beth upset?" She wasn't in the line. . . Where? She went. . . She came. . .

Beth came right before the convention. For the. . . Convention? No. 'Why did she bring all of her junk?' No. . . Not home. Moving! 'Where was she planning to stay?!' her inner voice was pounding with the pain in her head. 'It was a good thing that my- ' That girl. . . In the room. Her room mates's uncle. 'It was a good thing that he was the super for that concrete. . . something' . . .Apartment! 'What a crap shack, but better then nowhere.' No. . . Normal! She, her- Sort of, sister. . . Thingy. Beth! 'Beth said that things would be normal after. . .' Normal. . . 'Normal?! There's no such thing as normal!' The pain seemed as though it were becoming more intense as the darkness slipped away from her mind.

'Normal. . . Normal's gone.' Gone. . . Gone? What's gone? She was. . . 'Where am I?' She tried to pull herself together as her head began to pound even harder, throbbing to the beat of some tortured drum. Or was that her heart? Her wrists and angles were killing her too. She could feel the rope cutting into her skin as it bound her to the. . . seat. Chair. . . The chair. She was on a chair, somewhere. She struggled to clear her mind, raging against the pain. Just-one-thought. . . Straightness. ' One straight thought!. . . What happened?'

She remember hanging out with Marie and Beth. . . No, it was later then that. Just Beth. It was just her and Beth. There were at. . . Beth's apartment? Yes! It was Beth's apartment. '"It wasn't your fault. . ."' Was that her own voice swimming out of her distant memories? Had it really been so long ago? 'How long had I been out?' she thought before '"Abby!"' someone screamed from inside her mind. 'Just - think - straight!' She was at Beth's after the convention to watch some movies they had picked up. But Beth. . . Beth was upset. About. . . Something? Something. . . Something was there. A presence. A hand on her shoulder; bound. . . The pain, then darkness. And the screams. ''Cause that helps. . .' she thought.

Lashes flutter to a wild notion. 'Open your eyes. . .' A whispered voice rises with anger, gruff and cold and deep. A man. "Wake up!"


End file.
